Jackie drove me to and from New Milton station today, in order for me to travel to Waterloo to lunch with Carol.
The Hampshire station itself is impeccably kept, but the garden attached to the railway buildings has seen better days. It now boasts a collection of discarded supermarket trolleys, burst wooden planters, and the ubiquitous buddleia plants.
On the journey up, I enjoyed a brief spell as an interfering old git. I walked through two of the five carriages before I found a seat. I had to claim it. I came to a halt between two four seat sections. Only four of the eight held passengers. On one side a young couple sat opposite their wheeled case laid across the other two. Alongside them one seat was occupied by a walking stick; another by a backpack. I announced: ‘Well, I need one of these’. A young man politely settled his bag on his knees.
Throughout the journey people stopped, looked at the large case, and silently walked on. Soon, an announcement informed us that more customers were expected, and asked that luggage be removed from seats. The couple did not move. After a minute or two, ‘excuse me’ said I, and asked the man if he had heard the announcement. ‘I did’, he replied. ‘And you have seen people looking at your case and moving on?’, I continued. There was no reply. In mitigation I said that I knew this was a difficult train for luggage. ‘I’ll find somewhere to put it’, he said, and carried it back down the carriage. After he had done so, another man, who had twice walked on past the case, and must have been standing in the aisle further along, collapsed into one of the now vacant seats and thanked the young man. A woman sat in the other, and also expressed gratitude.
From Waterloo I walked along The Cut to Tas restaurant.
In Cornwall Road, SE1, a young woman sat on a low wall, speaking into her mobile phone, in 
This plot is very small, and contains no benches, but at least they have made an effort.
‘High Society’ is still being performed at The Old Vic, and further along The Cut, Rory Kinnear looks down on us from The Young Vic where he is receiving acclaim for his performance in ‘The Trial’.
Smoking is not, of course, permitted in our theatres, or in any other workplace or public building. Perhaps that is why the sunken gravel-coated paving around a nearby young plane tree has been converted into an ashtray.
Even before I passed these famous theatres, I was thinking of the Robin Hood Theatre at Averham, just outside Newark in Nottinghamshire. It was the setting of Rumer Godden’s novel ‘A Candle for St Jude’, that brought it to mind. This book was my train reading. Except to say that the action takes place in a private theatre, I will write more about it when I have finished it.
Robin Hood Theatre’s website describes it as ‘a timber-built private theatre of 1913 set in the grounds of the former Rectory; outbuildings which were once stables are now used for storing scenery, properties and costumes. One such outhouse contains two small dormitories which can accommodate drama students on their occasional visits to the theatre. The auditorium is on one level, the rear half raked, seated in 15 straight rows each containing ten seats. This is a most interesting and much-loved little playhouse. The backstage arrangements are quaint, compact and different.’
It is unconfirmed that Actor Manager Sir Donald Wolfit who was born and raised in Balderton, on the other side of Newark, acted there as a schoolboy.
During our Newark years Jessica and I enjoyed several performances in this historic venue.
Lunch with Carol at Tas was a delightful occasion. We enjoyed our usual entertaining conversation, and the food and service was as good as my last visit. We had different meze starters, mine being calamari, and garlic sausages; and both chose an excellent chicken casserole to follow. My choice of wine was the house red. Baklava was our chosen dessert, followed by excellent coffee.
Oh, how I love Rumer Godden. I read “A Candle for St. Jude” many years ago. And good for you for speaking up!
Thank you, Laurie. I’m really loving the book. What amazes me is that others, who need the seats, don’t
Sometimes it’s hard for people to speak up. And, they might have thought the seat was being saved for someone. In Maine, in a similar situation, that question, “Are you saving that seat?” probably would have been asked. Politely, of course. Mainers are fairly low key.
🙂
So glad others love Rumer Godden–hardly anyone knows of her work here in the States and I am on an informal campaign to motivate readings! I own and feel fondly about many of her books.
I’m not surprised. I’ll say more tomorrow when I’ve finished it
Oh, thought I was replying to the lady who commented!–oops
You were. She will appreciate that. I just chipped in
She was so good. I, too, own many of her books. They are keepers, that’s for sure.
You used the exact word I was going to use to describe the theatre – quaint. Places like that need to be preserved. Where else could you find a theatre made from a rectory and horse stables?
Thanks, GP
I so enjoy your posts – I need to say thank you, Derrick.
Thanks for another very interesting post.
Thank you, Cynthia
“The ubiquitous buddleia and the interfering old git” – now there’s a good title for a play!
Thank you, Bruce. It has its charms
My ipad will not let me se your photos in this post right now. I’ll be back when I can see them.
Thank you. Good luck with your technical problems
Thanks. I miss your photos when I can’t see them. They always inspire me.
That was fun; wish I had a close up look at the theatres and surrounds but good descriptions and photos. So glad you spoke right up on the train. And you are reading Rumer Godden! I haven’t read that one yet. Look forward to a fair review, in favor or not.
Thank you, Cynthia
What you saw on the train happens everyday on public transport. I’m so tired of it. One day a well dressed woman sitting in front of me started brushing out her hair. I said to the person beside me, ‘Gosh, who brushes her hair on a bus!’ and the woman turned around, glared at me and said , “I DO!” So I raised my voice and said “That’s disgusting, your nits and lice are flying out and your dandruff is everywhere!” People laughed and giggled and turned to look at her. The story passed around the bus quickly and bursts of laughter are heard as it travelled. Even the bus driver turned around to look when he stopped at the lights. She sat in stoney silence then bolted off the bus at the next stop.
Well done, you
Lovely! What a perfect day! Topped off with The Old Vic. Great choice. Made me nearly home sick for those avenues.
Good on you for saying something – I occasionally use the train when I want to get to Sydney and it is always a case of the person giving a full set of seats to their bags….even though the trains from the mountains have overhead luggage areas….
Luckily London Plane Trees are tough, but I’ve never seen one with a habit quite that bad 🙂
Thank you, Matt. 🙂
I was once a very shy and accommodating person. Somehow that changed. Aggressive, boorish and selfish behavior sets me off. I am now trying to respond gracefully, as you did, to those situations instead of the vigilante I was becoming. Well done!
I love baclava!
Many thanks, Cynthia.
It’s not a wonder your surname is Knight. A regular modern day hero. Vigilant and outspoken.
Thank you, Oscar. Much appreciated
Anytime, kind Sir.
Interfering gitdom has its merits when the right thing is done. Good for you and for those who benefitted. Lovely, leisurely stroll with you with such interesting commentary. You fairly get around. 🙂
Many thanks, momus